Jennifer
by theprozacfairy
Summary: One-shot Depressing story of why Lewis' mother gave him up. Please read warning at the beginning before reading the story. If your name is Jennifer, I apologize. Um, enjoy.


Disclaimer: I only own Jennifer and Chris. I do not own any of the other characters or places in this story.

A/N: Warning: This story is depressing. It contains abuse, swearing, references to STDs and death (implied). If this will upset you, please don't read it.

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Jennifer Davis sat in the corner weeping quietly, bruised and bleeding. She looked at her forearm where particularly ugly black-and-blue mark was beginning to appear. She'd have trouble explaining that one, unless she just wore long sleeves. In July.

He was right, though. She deserved it. She was looking at another man. She was married now, and that wasn't okay. She'd learn to be a good wife, eventually. Then, he wouldn't get so angry anymore.

Also, they needed every scrap of money they could earn. Rent was high. Those seventy cents she had given to that homeless man may mean the difference between having electricity and not. She wasn't getting great tips anymore, either. Then again, that may have been because she was slow because of her ankle injury. Also she didn't smile much because she was often in pain when carrying trays of food (which was going to get worse, now) and she hadn't been in contact with her friends, mother or sister in weeks. But she was married. Christopher was her life now. Still, she wished she could talk to them. Chris wasn't there at the moment, but it was past midnight, a little late for a phone call. Plus, he'd find out when the phone bill came.

Now that she though of it, if he was so worried about a measly seventy cents, why did he go out drinking? Didn't that waste far more money? But he was calmer when he was drunk so maybe it was a good thing. Okay, he wasn't drinking; he was smoking pot. She hated to admit to herself that her new husband broke the law, but she decided it was better than deluding herself.

She got up and got ready for bed. She wore a cute pink nightgown. Chris loved that one. She knew he would apologize and want to make up when he got home. This always happened when they had these little tiffs. Just before climbing into bed and pulling the covers over her head, she crossed the day off of her calendar, her nightly ritual.

Wait, today was the twelfth? How did she miss that? She was late. A week late. Crap.

The next day, she went to the drugstore after work and bought a pregnancy test. It was sitting on the bathroom sink. She took a deep breath. It should be showing the answer by now. She looked. Two stripes. Just. Great.

How did she end up like this? She had been a chemistry student at the University, on scholarship. Here she was, a waitress in a small, rundown apartment covered in bruises and scars. And she was going to bring a baby into all this. No. She wasn't going to bring a baby into this. She needed to get out. But she didn't have enough money to pay rent on her own, much less enough for food and baby-care products. She needed Chris to get by. That's how he trapped her, huh? She couldn't get out. She couldn't even call Mom. If Chris saw on the phone bill who she'd called and she disappeared, he'd attack her mother.

She had the next day off from work. As soon as Chris left the apartment, she left, too. She went to the library, and got a list of phone numbers. Her next mission was to find a pay phone. They were pretty rare, nowadays, as everyone had cell phones. A-ha! She found one that wasn't busted! Now she just had to call. She dropped some change into the slot.

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The women's shelter wasn't Buckingham Palace, but it gave her time to get back on her feet. And the women here understood her. She was able to move to a new city far away from Chris. She had had someone serve him divorce papers and a restraining order.

She had a roommate who worked at a daycare center. She would have to pay, but at least she would know her baby was in capable hands once it was born and she had to go back to work. Plus, her roommate could take the baby home and watch it if Jennifer couldn't get off work in time. It wasn't likely to happen, though. She wasn't a waitress anymore. Now she was the administrative assistant of a high-up in a chemical engineering company. A much better use of her talents.

Her sister and mother came to visit her. They agreed, things were finally going well. While she was hesitant to return to her hometown, her mother let her know that she always had a place at her home. Jennifer had to admit, she was nervous about being a single mother, but if her mom could do it, so could she.

Jennifer wasn't feeling well. She was having night sweats, and she was throwing up left and right. This was normal, right? A lot of women experienced these sorts of things when pregnant. But she wasn't sure how common the breathing trouble was. She went to the doctor.

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Fuck! She had AIDS. The only man she'd ever slept with was Christopher, meaning she probably got HIV from him (either that or a mistake at a hospital, or something). They gave her AZT, both to protect her and the baby. She prayed night and day that it wouldn't be passed to him. She went to four different churches and a Jewish temple. She needed all the help she could get. 

He had to be delivered via c-section. It was safer for him. Even though she was so worried about him, she felt a sense of euphoria when she saw her baby for the first time. She had a boy! He weighed 8 lbs 2oz and seemed perfectly healthy. He might just have a good life. She named him "Lewis" after her father who died when she was a child. She just stared at him for a minute. He was the most beautiful, wonderful and adorable thing she'd ever seen. She hoped she could protect him.

The first six weeks were the most nerve-wracking of her life. First, that's how long he needed treatment for them to ensure that he was HIV negative. She was so scared. But he always tested negative. Once again, Jennifer dared to hope that he would be okay. Of course all this was on top of the usual newborn nervousness and obstacles. Had this kid ever heard of sleep? Actually, he hadn't, but all her explanations failed to get through to him. She laughed at her own joke.

Lewis had just passed the six-week mark and was thriving. Jennifer, on the other hand, wasn't feeling very well. She went back to the doctor. Her prognosis wasn't good. Apparently, the c-section had been bad for her, and she had an internal infection. She was given a very short life expectancy. She probably had no more than two years to live. Two years to raise her baby. That was it.

If she couldn't live to see her baby become a man, she would have to do the best she could to provide for him. Unfortunately, even with her insurance, treatment for her illness was going to eat through her paychecks like there was no tomorrow. She laughed dryly to herself. There might actually be no tomorrow for her. She would have to go back to work in two weeks when her maternity-leave ended. She hated the idea of leaving Lewis anywhere, even if it was in trusted hands. She wanted to watch her baby forever.

So she couldn't put money away for him. Not much, anyway. Now what? A horrifying thought stuck her. What would happen with him after she died? Would his father gain custody of him? She had assumed he would go to her mother, but if Chris found out, he could probably get custody. It would be like Chris to do that, too. He didn't necessarily want kids, but she imagined he would treat ones he did have like property. He would want to propagate his chauvinism and arrogance along with his genes. He had been a nice guy, once, and very smart. He just let himself be corrupted by anger and narcissism. There was no way that was happening to Lewis. She had to give him up, eventually. Anonymously. If hers or Chris' names were attached to him any way, Chris could find him.

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It had been two months since she decided to give Lewis up and she still had him. She felt so weak and tired whenever she came home from work. She had not only lost her baby weight, but she now weighed ten pounds less than she did before she got pregnant. She was having trouble taking care of him. She hated the thought, but she would have to give him up soon. It was in Lewis' best interests. She set a date. Next Sunday, so she could have the whole weekend with him.

She brought her baby to the sixth street orphanage in a box. Lord, how did it get to this? It was raining, which meant fewer cars on the street and people out and about. Good. This was the most difficult thing she had ever done. She didn't know how she could have managed with people watching her. She was still a bit paranoid. The thought that scared her the most was that someone would recognize her and Chris would find out. She couldn't bare the thought of Lewis being raised by Chris. Especially since, after the abuse he would surely endure, he'd probably have to witness his father dying of AIDS. It was too much for her to think about.

She focused all her attention on the baby in her arms. She would have done anything not to have to give him up. But she knew it was for the best. He'd be adopted by a nice couple in no time. He was so adorable, how could anyone pass the opportunity to raise him up? 

She left a small note with her baby inside his blanket. All it said was his name and how much she loved him. She couldn't bear to write anymore. She held her baby tight for the last time. She heard footsteps. She realized that it was now or never. If she couldn't let go now, she never would. She set him down and left quickly, praying that her son would grow up happy and healthy. She hoped they'd find him a good family soon. 

She began sobbing uncontrollably a block away from the orphanage and didn't stop until it was morning and she had to go to work. It was for the best, she reminded herself. It had to be.


End file.
